


Your paradise is something I've endured (but I don't want to be here anymore)

by njhloveshischesthair



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor (UK) RPF
Genre: Gay Zayn, Homosexuality, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Queer Themes, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, The X Factor Era, Trans Liam, a little bit of Larry - Freeform, ftm trans guy, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9955013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/njhloveshischesthair/pseuds/njhloveshischesthair
Summary: Hi so this is my first fanfic. A lot is fictional but I did my best to incorporate real life events too. Leave me some comments. I'm so excited for you to read this.





	1. Maybe I'll lie to save some time

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is my first fanfic. A lot is fictional but I did my best to incorporate real life events too. Leave me some comments. I'm so excited for you to read this.

‘Liam’, Zayn called, his thick accent closing in on the gap in the door. 

Frantic, I threw myself at the door, looking down the small strip of pale skin my binder didn’t quite reach. I wish I was normal.

‘Don’t come in, I’m not decent’, I yelled, before he had chance to push the door open wide.

Zayn knew everything about me but this. I couldn’t risk losing his friendship, not now when we actually have a shot of winning the X Factor. Not many people can say that. Zayn muttered, ‘okay’, the sound of his feet shuffling along the carpet in the hall told me he’d left.

In my head, I knew Zayn would hate me for not telling him the truth. In fact the first thing he ever told me was that he hates liars. But the conversation of, “I was born female but I identify as male”, seemed too much for me. I didn’t expect to be in a group with four other lads, I didn’t think I’d need to confide in anyone. Yet here I was, living with four guys my age, developing friendships and I couldn’t help but want to let them in. I didn’t know how.

‘You okay, Li?’, Harry asked, sipping his tea.

We were all worshipping the tv after a long day of rehearsals and photoshoots. Louis was cuddled up to Harry, me to Zayn and Niall to food with his popcorn filled mouth. That boy loved to eat. I didn’t blame him, it was hard to fit anything else besides rehearsals and photoshoots into our schedules. Exhaustion was not the word.

‘Mm, just tired’, I murmured, nudging my head further into Zayn’s armpit who only pulled me in closer.

‘Aren’t we all?’, Zayn chuckled, rubbing at my arm.

After a few hours of back to back binge-watching of our favourite tv shows, I stumbled into the pit of darkness which was our room. Five about to be adult lads snuggled up in bunk beds. Lucky for me, Zayn was above me and if I messaged him, he would climb down to me. I could never sleep early no matter how tired I felt on the sofa, Zayn was the same. But he valued our friendship so much that he’d do anything for me.

Within minutes of the other boys falling asleep, my phone buzzed against my thigh, sending waves throughout my leg and a smile to my cheeks. Zayn’s long legs stretched down the ladder, making it to the bottom with minimal steps before sliding onto my bed and slipping under the covers, holding me. Occasionally, I’d push his arms down if they got too close to my chest but that didn’t happen very often.

Zayn’s soft words grazed the inside of my ear.

‘Liam, I’ve got something to tell you’, his voice felt like marshmallows roasting on a fire. His arms tensed slightly, he’s ready to get a toxin out of his veins. His chest still radiated the body spray he applied this morning. I was melting into his warmth. Small echoes of words left his mouth before I got the chance to reply.

‘I’m gay, Liam’. Zayn had always been short and sweet with speaking but those short and sweet words meant the world to me.

‘Don’t worry, Zayn. You’re still the most important person in my life’, I smiled, nuzzling my head between his pecks. He let out a chuckle as my hair tickled his chest,before combing his hands through it.

‘I know. But hearing you say it makes me feel better’, Zayn muttered, his slim fingers trailing down my back like a lost soul trying to find its way back home.

* * * *

‘Remember boys, do not talk about girlfriends. All the girls are swooning over you, you’ll want to keep it that way’, Simon reminded us for the thousandth time. My eyes resembled bowling balls being rolled down an alley. Louis’s hands were small robins with uncontrollable giggles, representing Simon’s mouth that just never stopped moving. The five of us captured the moment with our hands cradling our laughter. Simon shot back his hawk eyes just before we got our cue that we were going live on air.

Every interview was the same. The everyday questions that left nothing left to the imagination. Favourite colour, superpower, hobbies, dates. Then the inevitable came. The question he warned us about. ‘So do any of you have girlfriends?’, Zayn’s smile drained from a face like it’d been forced down the drain. 

‘Oh c’mon. You’re expecting us all to believe that five good looking lads are all single’, Ben pressed, (someone Simon knew, of course). I slid my hand onto his and gave it a single pat. I’m here for you. It was true, but of course Ben was looking for more.

‘See I’ve heard that Mr. Malik has been getting cosy with Rebecca Ferguson. Ladies man, eh? And Liam you get on very well with Danielle Peazer, don’t you?’, Ben’s smirk grew bigger. Louis was ready to bounce out of his seat to defend us, his hands were pushing his body up, aching to wrap round his neck.

My mouth uttered words before Zayn’s could. His mouth was clamped shut, his chiselled jaw clenching, his eyes getting lost in the darkness. Fear was his best friend. ‘No no, Ben. You’ve got it all wrong. We’re all very much single. We’d tell you if there was anything to tell but there isn’t. We’re just concentrating on the band and progressing in the competition’. And that was when I became the Serious One. Ready to save the day with my calm and collected mind, or so everyone thought.


	2. I've been living life inside my head with no one to turn to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam confides in Zayn but the truth is not what Zayn wanted to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: talk of mental health/s-h, it is very brief (the s-h) but the last thing I want is to trigger anyone so just thought I should mention it.
> 
> As usual, I hope you enjoy reading the story, also sorry for not posting in almost two months. Where the heck did the time go?! Apologies, again!

‘Liam’, Zayn’s voice filled the house as he returned home a few days later. 

I scrambled, pulling on my binder quickly, muttering curse words as I hopped into my clothes. Zayn being the bugger he was, he wandered into my room without knocking. Thankfully, I was dressed by then.

‘Alright, Liam’, he nodded, before walking over to the bed, falling onto it carelessly. I chuckled, walking over to check the schedule. I swore I was the only one to keep check of events we had to be at. Zayn’s dark eyes, lacked the light that I first admired about him, they began to roam the room aimlessly and my startled ones followed. Oh no.

Fuck.

‘Um.. Liam why do you have tampons in your bin? You had a girl round or something?’, Zayn smirked playfully. My skin was burning. My biggest secret was in tow everywhere I went, following me around like a child learning its way in the world. But now what was once a baby that I could nurture, had now learnt how to unlock doors and find its way into every aspect of my life without a care in the world. Yet I cared. I cared how my best friends saw me. I didn’t want to be seen like a fragile bird or anything less than the man they originally thought I was. Nor did I want to be an animal in a zoo that the public could poke and stare at for their entertainment. Time would only tell.

My teeth found my lip and sunk into it. My lip gave in like prey in the hands of its predator, chewing until it became painful to dare drag my teeth through it once more. 

‘Oh yeah, just an old friend from back home’, I murmured. My jaw clenched, hating the lies and deceit. Zayn hated liars yet here I was, shapeshifting into the person that aligned with how he saw me instead of my true self. My voice was worn from the forced deepness and the useless words that I told myself for comfort that what I was doing was right.

‘You sure she’s just a friend?’, Zayn grumbled. A hard side appeared in his chocolate eyes like he’d been left in the fridge a little too long. My body tensed, now I was the one confined to the fridge, frozen in time. In a place between happiness and sadness, where my body matches my head and my heart instead of a puzzle I had to piece together myself, in many years to come.

A strong hand waved its palm in front of my face, forcing me to exit my head in an awkward fashion, forgetting to close the door on my way out. The thoughts began to pour like an unattended tap. That’s the thing about mental health, your mind can attack you anywhere and anytime and there is no escaping it.

Roots that kept me grounded wrapped around my waist in the form of Zayn’s secure grip. ‘Liam, talk to me, what is it?’, Zayn pressed his lips to my ear, speaking loudly and clearly though his words were lost ghosts in the room, afraid and lonely. I pressed my back to Zayn’s comforting heartbeat, listening intently to the only thing that was constant in my life in that moment, my love for him. 

‘I need you to promise me not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you’, I forced out a few careful words, my head space causing me to feel like my soul had left my body and fled far away from the room we were in. Zayn leaned in close with a pained expression, the truth would hurt him. But it was better to pierce his heart with a secret kept close to my chest for a few months then patch the hole up with sincerity and my willingness to confide in him than to pull his heart from his chest if I did the unthinkable.

‘Remember when we were little and our parents would say to us that sticks and stones may break our bones but words will never hurt us?’, Zayn nodded in response, my ghostly palms were bearing the brunt of my inner feelings. ‘See I think they were lying… because the words my brain tells me are worse than any physical fight I faced at school from bullies’, I spoke sheepishly, unsure whether I was more ashamed about the fact that I was weak than the fact that I was a fraud, at least that was what everyone would think about my gender identity.

Zayn’s colour in his eyes sunk till all that appeared was the white with tiny specs of black. ‘What do you mean, Liam?’, his head tilted in concentration with a mix of confusion like a german shepherd puppy. I would have cooed if I had the energy to do anything else but to sigh. ‘I have a mental health problem. I get sad for no reason but other times, when there is a reason, the reason is me. Then I make it worse by taking it out on myself’, I sighed, throwing my head back in defeat, going through the pain barrier as my head collided with the wall. My head was a car on a test run of crash impact against a brick wall. The wall won.

‘Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there, Liam. You know that right? Hell you know how anxious I get on stage yet you always help me through by saying the right things’, Zayn pulled me to him, cradling my head like an infant. Regardless of what Zayn had said, if I always knew the right things to say, he definitely knew the right things to do. He held me like a childhood friend that I hadn’t seen in years. He cooked the best beans on toast ever, even if that wasn’t a special skill or hidden talent in everyone else’s eyes it was in mine because it came from him. Everything Zayn did came from his heart. Zayn would pour his heart out on the stage every Saturday night even if it would be soaked up after our song was up. He would never stop giving. That was his best quality.


	3. This Feeling Won't Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam gets on T thought his guilt continues as he contemplates telling the boys.

‘Remind me again, why do you need to go to the doctors?’, Zayn muttered, his hand fumbling in the pringles tube.

I gulped, thankful that my Mum had taken the day off work and was willing to drive to take me. The last thing I needed was to go on my own. Guilt weighed down on me like a suitcase. Of course I wanted to tell him. But these things had to be planned and thought about. It couldn’t be spontaneous.

‘Oh, just a check up for my kidney, I told you I only have one that works right?’, I smiled, looking into his soft brown eyes. I swore in that moment they were designed and created by Picasso himself.

‘Dude you tell us like every single time you open your mouth’, Zayn smirked, tickling my sides. Naturally I squirmed though Zayn’s arms felt strong around me, the thought of him feeling the restriction on my chest made me pull away. I didn’t want to be a traitor or to have anything come between us. But the closet was a dark place that separated me from the outside world. In a way it kept me safe from the ignorance of others. My closet was made of bricks and it’d take a long time to knock down the walls I’d hid behind for many years.

‘Yeah mate, when will you stop milking it?’, Louis chimed in as he entered the studio. I rolled my eyes, flipping him off then I flipped my hair. Harry wrapped his arms around the older lad, shooting me a look that would make a corpse disappear. ‘I was only kidding, Haz’, I murmured, resting my head on Zayn’s shoulder before my phone vibrated in my pocket, the sensation rushing up my thigh.

‘That must be my Mum’, I stated, standing up as I answered my phone. ‘On my way, Mum’, I murmured, leaving the studio after waving to the boys.

 

‘Are you sure this is what you want, Liam?’, Mum asked, concerned once we arrived at the doctors. My fingers couldn’t stop moving. It was like they were in a club and their favourite song was playing on repeat. First the one-finger tapping which spread to running my hands through my hair every two seconds. Slowly but surely my body was becoming more nerve-wracking than the constant knock of my heart against my chest.

I let out a nervous smile. ‘Mum, you’ve known how I’ve felt for years. I’ve been wanting to get on testosterone for years now. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, truly’, I replied, admiring the building and let out a chuckle riddled with anxiety. Of course I was nervous about this. It was the thing that mattered most in my mind. I’d been imagining this moment from the minute I woke up to the second I closed my eyes. No longer would I be teased by the boys for ‘having a baby face’ though if anyone was baby faced, it was definitely Harry. Nor would I face the struggle of not passing when I opened my mouth. To the boys, I’d be a late bloomer. Now my life truly started.  
The nurse called my name pretty quickly after arriving and hot puddles flooded my cheeks the second she said I’d have to pull my boxers down just a little to stick the needle into my butt. My Mum met my eyes as the needle went in. Despite the prick of it, I was met with pleasure to counteract the pain. The promise of a new life as my authentic self and the act of leaving behind who I was born as with who I am now made me have hope.

When I sat back in the car, that was when I really felt the result of the sharp needle. I almost swore until I remembered that my Mum was present.

‘When will you tell them, Liam? They need to know’, Mum asked, driving me back to the contestant house. I huffed. Mum was right. Of course they would notice. Zayn would pick up on the facial hair, Louis would notice the voice drops, Niall would acknowledge the newfound hunger and Harry would witness the mood swings. Living right beside them meant they had to know. I was close to being done hiding. They’d never gave me any reason not to trust them but I’d never let anyone in.

‘I will, I just need a little time, Mum’, I admitted, seeing the boys once I arrived back at the house. ‘Tell them before they find out themselves, honey’, Mum’s last words hung in my mind like lightbulbs from the top of my head long after she had left me.

Zayn was the first to notice the blank look in my eyes, ‘everything okay with the kidneys?’, he asked whilst swinging his arm around my waist, squeezing to get a reaction. My mind was having trouble connecting back to my body like an unwired internet connection. My head was long distance and my body had weak signal as it tried to call me back home to myself.

Zayn’s soft voice wormed it’s way in through the gaps in my trail of thought. ‘Liam’, it called out like a candle of hope, burning the ends of the thoughts so they had no line to continue on. Like a train on a broken track, they would soon plummet off the end. Zayn really was the warm blanket at the end of the day that would be there for you no matter how your day went. ‘Yeah.. today’s just been long that’s all’, I replied, nuzzling my head between his pecks, appreciating his slim fingers massaging the tension in my mind. Slowly, the voices turned from hurricanes to whispers, eventually silenced by a Bradford accent that I found home in. That was until the sting in my butt reminded me of the guilt in my gut and my brain. For the future of the band, he needed to know who I was.


	4. As days pass, some things change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam is becoming more himself but his secret is burning away at him. Is it time to tell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it's been a while. Life got in the way. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm really enjoying the process of writing this. I really feel like this story is important to tell, to showcase the impact of words and the daily lives of many trans people including myself (but not everyone chooses hormones/surgeries and experiences the same things as what Liam does here).
> 
> What I'm saying is be nice as much as you can, where it is possible. And just because you don't like someone, that doesn't give you the right to misgender them. Anyway, sorry for sounding like a preacher. But hopefully this story is a learning experience for many.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. Your support means everything.  
> \- Liam (sadly not Payne).

Zayn’s noodle legs sprawled over the bed like an overcooked meal. The light streamed in, searching for its victim. A face. It landed on my cheek, circling it perfectly like the sun held a stencil to my face. Once it started to wave, my eyes opened, landing on the spherical devil. Grumbles left the sleepy Yorkshire boy beside me, his hair curled up and tickled my cheek slightly as the pillow had restyled his hair for him.

I peeled the duvet back, still craving the warmth that Zayn’s body radiated before sneaking into the bathroom. My blood was itching to get its’ hormonal friend, Testosterone, swimming alongside it. My toes lifted, aching for the boost to remind me that I was right where I needed to be, I reached into the cabinet, finding my most prized possession and cleaning my thigh. My chest rattled at the thought of Zayn catching me in the act. The last thing he would think was that I was taking testosterone. The prick made a temporary ache in my thigh but it created a permanent smile. I finished up, washing my hands and putting the needle in the bin and hoping that Zayn wouldn’t discover my secret. I’d kept it hidden in my head for so long, though it was on my mind every second of the day, I felt like the words would come out when in my breath.

‘Liam, I need to pee’, Zayn muttered from the other side of the door, a sloppy knock from a tired fist followed. I chuckled, his morning voice bringing me back to reality and forcing happiness to surge inside my mind. I was finally at peace. I bit back a smile as I opened the door to reveal a messy-haired adorable puppy with loving eyes. I slipped past him with a gentle shoulder squeeze for a greeting and threw my body down onto the bed, groaning as tiredness set back in. My head wormed its way under the covers, burrowing under them for warmth and comfort. A row of hairs had sprouted under my chin, growing thicker day by day. A present from my hormones, the right ones.

‘Zayn’, I whined, still not used to how my voice was changing, no matter how small the change. I had to tell myself not to act surprised or weird about it. I knew every change, after reading every website on how testosterone worked. But it still felt like a miracle when I noticed something happen.

‘Liam’, Zayn mimicked my whine, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he walked out of the bathroom.

‘I think we should have a cooked breakfast. We could persuade Harry to cook for us, he knows how to make great food’, I smiled, sitting up, huddled inside the covers.

‘Of course’, Zayn laughed as he shook his head. A mop of hair in different directions spread across his forehead.

 

‘Is this okay for you?’, Harry asked as he served up the food for us all, Louis and Niall included. I nodded vigorously, not really caring for presentation as I rammed the food in my mouth.   
The three H’s had definitely hit me; hot, hungry and horny. But most definitely hungry. And I could eat Harry’s food all day long.

‘Well I guess it’s too late to say grace’, Harry laughed softly, raising an eyebrow at me from across the table. Louis laughed obnoxiously, covering his mouth.

‘Oh so it’s okay for Niall to eat like he’s never eaten before but for me it’s different’, I half-joked, my voice cracking at the end earning a chorus of laughter from the boys and a wince on behalf of my poor ears.

‘Awesome. I was wondering when your voice was going to finally drop’, Louis smirked, tucking into his food.

My face lit up like a christmas tree. I smiled sheepishly, eating as quick as I could to get out of there. People were bound to put their foot in it without knowing especially when they didn’t know. One day they would know. But only when they couldn’t deny that I was a man. I excused myself from the table and left my plate on the side, the only reminder I was there. Well besides the words replaying in my head. A torturous circle of deep voices that only resembled a painful reminder of my reality. My thoughts tussled with the urge to come out to them, pulling back and forth as I lined up the pros and cons alongside each other in my mind.

Rejection held me back like handcuffs around my heart. Zayn appeared beside me, having not noticed him enter the room. His strong arms like an anchor holding me in place.

‘What’s wrong, Li?’, Zayn murmured in my ear.

I couldn’t be mad with them for saying something which was in their eyes harmless. I couldn’t when they didn’t know my gender identity. They had never questioned me like I questioned myself. Whilst my mind was filled with doubt, they had always been sure of their gender. The differences sucked. This could mean they wouldn’t understand who I was and refused to accept me.

My mind swirled with endless possibilities of what ifs and worst case scenarios. Zayn’s arms held me tighter, his eyes intent on watching me turn in on myself though his constant call of my name was enough to snap me out of it.

Zayn’s eyes peered under my chin as he tilted his head, causing a blush to creep up my cheeks.

‘Hey, you’re growing some decent facial hair, that’s pretty cool’, I smiled at his comment. He always knew how to bring me up even when others were bringing me down. It was then that I’m sure Zayn had superpowers or maybe it was that he was the person I needed in my life all along. And now that I had him, I wasn’t going to let anything destroy our relationship.


	5. And if all you need no know is that I'm fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn finds out some rather big news and grows closer to Liam as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn I really need to get better at updating. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading. I really appreciate you taking the time to read it. Remember to leave a comment.  
> \- Liam

‘Liam, you’d tell me if there was anything I should be worried about, wouldn’t you?’, Zayn asked, his eyes glued to me as he sat beside me on the bed.

I gulped audibly, a lump of lies stuck in my throat. Right then I wore the ultimate guilt mask, my eyes diverting the gaze of Zayn and all of the truth he held in them. Zayn’s safe arms retreated behind his back, his expression tainted like a misted window. His eyes dampened in the depth of his thoughts.

Zayn sighed, frustration left his mouth. ‘Liam, you’re not on drugs, are you?’, his slim fingers kneaded my shoulder like fresh dough. My eyes widened like the sound of sirens coming into view. Zayn was the cop and I was the robber. Though unfortunately I couldn’t hide out till it all blew over. Zayn’s bambi expression pulled the words from my head and heart to the tip of my tongue.

I shook my head, ‘you know you always said how you hate liars? Well I am one’. Zayn’s dart eyes circled mine in the attempt to look for a lie but there wasn’t one. I was being honest, finally. The ghost hands around my throat eased the more I began to speak.

‘What does that mean Liam? Look is this about that syringe in the bathroom bin? Are you on drugs Liam?’, Zayn took my small hand in his. My eyes fell to his arm, his veins protruding like rope tied to an anchor. Zayn was trying his best to pull me in but I was too busy drifting out to sea.

I shook my head vigorously. My small smile landsliding into the tears that were rapidly slipping down my chubby cheeks. My voice getting trapped in my throat. Anxiety had the lock and I had lost the key. I pressed my sweaty palms over the salty culprits that were making the moment all about them. 

Zayn’s voice separated the sea of tears, his hulk like arm slung over my shoulder.

‘Are you okay, Liam?’

My craving to be just like the lads, constantly fearless yet emotionless wanted me to push everyone away. Then in a few days, the chaos would calm down and everything would be back to normal. The small version of myself insisted that this would only be fixed with the truth.

I shook my head, gulping hard. The words of my lies washing around my mouth like mouthwash and now I was finally ready to spit them out.

‘I’m transgender, Zayn. I was born female but I identify as male. The syringes are from my testosterone shots’, I uttered, burying my face in his chest towards the end of my announcement.

Zayn’s chest tensed as I trembled at first.

‘Liam, why wouldn’t you tell me? I thought we were best friends. I thought you could trust me with anything’. His voice weakened with each word trailing off his tongue, his body sinking into the bed.

I frowned, sitting up to look at his lifeless eyes that crushed my heart.

‘Zayn, of course I can trust you. But this is different. I didn’t want you to see me the way I see myself’, I sighed. A waterfall rushed down my cheeks, painting a wet smile on the very top of my shirt. A few stray puddles fell down my shirt and onto my chest, causing me to shiver.

I looked down, watching Zayn’s tanned arm pull me back like a rollercoaster. His breath shaky like the winter winds beyond the window.

‘Look Liam. You’re a man to me, you always have been and always will be. I won’t pretend like I’m not surprised but that’s not a bad thing. Just no more lying, yeah?’, Zayn murmured. His streamline fingers combed through my sandy hair, feeling a slight pull when I nodded solemnly. I felt Zayn smile from the small chuckle that left his mouth. Each laugh reminding me of the warmth of huddling under freshly ironed sheets.

 

My voice seeped through the cracks in Zayn’s light breaths. ‘Are we okay now, Zayn?’, I asked. My head cuddled into his armpit, laid under the duvet with only boxers and a t-shirt to cover me.  
Zayn let out an effortless laugh, his attempt to ease my mind which was racing at the thought of the loud lads downstairs finding out the truth. My truth.

His soft touch that stroked over my bare side pulled me back from those thoughts.

‘Liam. We’re okay, I promise. I understand how it feels. Remember every time I go home, I have to listen to my parents drone on and on about me meeting the right girl’. 

His voice drifting off like he too was caught in his own mind. My left hand touched his chest, looking into his eyes as I leaned up, smiling cheekily at him. I earned a smile back. Our soft brown eyes melted with ease and comfort. There was no barricade between us now. Everything was known and out for each other to know about.

‘Well, I’m here any time you need me. Just don’t ask me to be your fake girlfriend’, I joked. Zayn’s strong hands digged into my sides, a gruff voice whispering in my ear with a chuckle, ‘damn it’. I laughed without worry and tackled Zayn onto the bed, smirking that I had the upperhand when he realised he was pinned down.

‘When do you think that I should tell the boys?’  
Zayn shrugged, biting his lip. ‘I don’t know. But my advice is to only tell them when you’re ready. They’ll be accepting though. I mean you’ve seen how Louis and Harry are, they’re always touching’, Zayn smirked, rolling his eyes. I couldn’t help but think Zayn and I were the same.

A smirk played on my lips, nodding. ‘And everyone knows that Niall cannot stop talking about Justin Bieber. I wonder how he’d react if he met him. He’d probably piss his pants’. Zayn’s angelic laughter filled the room.

‘I hope we get to witness that. It’d get him back for laughing so much’, Zayn smiled at me knowingly.


	6. The road is cruel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam's dysphoria hits and Zayn surprisingly knows exactly what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Second upload of the week. I really found this chapter hard-hitting as I know what it's like to experience dysphoria and rely on others to bring you back up again. Anyway, stay tuned because the next chapter is a pretty big one.  
> \- Liam

_ You can’t play football, you’re not a boy. _

_ You’re not a boy so you can’t be on our team. _

_ A ten year old boy moped around the playground. Isolated by the girls and marginalised by the boys. He didn’t fit in with the flat chests and short hair. Nor was he capable of playing with the girls in pink and purple dresses who talked about dolls and Barbie. He stood in the middle of the grounds, unsure of his place. His classmates circled around him, jeering at him ‘look at your chest, you’re a girl’. The girls responded ‘no, you wear a boys’ hat all the time, definitely not a girl’. _

_ Miniature Liam frowned, only knowing that most days he wanted to tear off his chest and develop a penis. _

_ Liam shouted back, ‘I’m just different, that’s all’. His voice cut short by the frightening headteacher. Her voice giving him a headache as the words pierced his heart, each one laced with razor sharp edges. ‘Lily Payne, you are a girl. Stop this nonsense right now. I shall have to call your parents if there is anymore of this’. Little Liam’s surroundings changed as his expression changed to defeat, he now stood in front of his headteacher’s large desk. His small voice weakening as he tried to defend his need to express the person inside just dying to be let out. _

_ His headteacher’s brows furrowed. Tension rose in the air as she smacked her fist against the oak to silence him. Her arms burrowed under her breasts, her grey blazer protruding up her arms like it was trying to escape her. Liam wouldn’t have blamed it. His feet became antsy, a nervous tactic that had accompanied him from nursery. Sweat soaking his socks, he just wanted to be let go. ‘I have told you before but clearly you didn’t listen so I will tell you again. But only once more’. Liam gulped audibly, only once. The fear had taken the moisture from his mouth and his will to fight. _

_ ‘You Lily Payne are a girl. You will only ever be a girl. Do you understand?’ _

The voice rang in my head like a neglected phone call. A sound so powerful it pried my eyes awake and I sat up from my sleep. Zayn’s heavy breath lingering in the air. My unsteady hands shaking as I tried to reach for the glass of water on the nightstand. The glass fell to the floor as my clumsy hand failed to grasp it. The waterfall spilled on the wood and led a stream across the room like an army of ants.

‘Shit’, I mumbled, scrambling up to clean the mess up. My tired feet not thinking and I slipped, landing on my butt in the entrance to the bathroom. Zayn stirred, grumbling, ‘what the fuck?’, as his eyes wandered over to my sore landing. His grumpy voice becoming soft as he realised I could’ve been hurt. ‘You okay, Liam?’, Zayn smiled, climbing off the bed and plodding over to my side.

‘I guess’, I whimpered, pulled to my feet by Zayn’s strong hands. Zayn patted my butt causing me to giggle like a childish preteen before hurrying into the bathroom. The water reached the tip of my toes when I got on my knees to clean it up. Zayn’s tired figure helped though he was useless at tidying up his own mess, let alone the lake in our room now.

I stumbled back into bed minutes later, falling onto Zayn’s lanky body. ‘Hey!’, he protested, grunting before gently pushing me onto the mattress. Agony hit me like a wave, circling around my stomach and lower back like a shark. Shit. My head burrowed into Zayn’s armpit for protection like a badger who’d lost its home to poachers.

‘Liam?’, Zayn sighed, seeing the metallic red among the sheets. He knew. Zayn pulled me into his arms gently, careful not to cause more distress and carried me to the bathroom. My fists found the walls as I pounded on them, desperate for this life to let me go. My legs went limp as Zayn hurried off to clean up my mess. My face sunk into them, hiding in the blanket of embarrassment that hung over me like a cloak.

Zayn came back in with clean clothes and a smile that should’ve cured all my sadness. But it didn’t. His heartbeat calmed my head as I pressed my ear to his chest. For a moment, I disappeared into a bed and his heart was tucking me in. I smiled, the steady rhythm wearing me down. ‘Zayn? Am I a man to you?’, I asked, cushioning my head with his chest.

‘You will always be a man to me. Nothing and no one can change my mind. And if anyone tells you you’re not, I will fight them. Believe me, I am far from nice when I’m angry’, Zayn chuckled effortlessly. His infectious laugh causing my head to react like I was on a bumpy road. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer like I was his treasured childhood teddy bear.

‘I wish everyone in the world was more like you, Zayn’, I sighed, running a hand through my sweaty hair. Zayn smiled against my cheek, pressing his face to mine. In the same way a dog owner would pose with their dog, Zayn squished my cheek with his own. His cheesiest grin glowing from his lips.

‘Nah that’d be boring for the most part. However, I don’t get why people choose to be shitheads, now that’s be on me. It costs nothing to be nice’, Zayn stated, running a hand through the hairstyle the pillow had given him. I nodded, finding a pillow on his right shoulder as I yawned perfectly in time. 

‘I’m too tired to think about them’.

‘Well I hope you always think about what I say before you think about what they have to say’, Zayn smirked. He was always right and he knew it.


	7. I've been lost in life and I can't find a warm place to call home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam needs to tell the truth. It's eating away at him. And of course, Zayn is on his side but ultimately it's his decision. Will the boys react supportively? He'll only know if he confides in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry it's been a while. If you're still keeping up with this story, I just want to say thank you for being so loyal. Anyway, I am proud of this chapter. This chapter is for those who have thought about coming out, it's a difficult decision. But most of the time, it can bring a lifetime of happiness. And if you don't feel like you have support, I'm here for that.  
> \- Liam.

I awoke to the a river of water shooting at my face. A childhood memory of waterpark fun popped into mind though this was far from happiness. I yelled, my voice peaking as I reached a loud volume. A huff rumbled across my lips as Louis stood in front of me, holding his stomach, his high pitched laugh echoing through my ears. It only fueled the boiling streams in my veins. Zayn’s soft voice pulled me back to sanity, ‘fuck off, guys’. His tattoo-less arm held my stomach back, my arms were scrambling to get my hands on Louis.

Louis held his hands up in mock defense, a toddler-like smirk on his face.

‘Fucking hell, Zayn. I thought you liked to have a laugh with us. You’re becoming as serious as Liam’, he laughed, squirting water at our chests and I ducked.

Water seeped through my shirt to my bare chest. It trickled delicately across my skin like a cruise ship stopping at port through the indentations where bones protruded. An audible gulp made its way down my throat and I tangled my body with Zayn’s for safety. A grunt erupted from his mouth, his vein wrapping around his wrists like ropes.

‘Louis. Seriously, piss off’, he huffed. His legs swung round to the side of the bed, hitting the wood with a bear-like thud. My eyes wandered up his slim thighs and down to his slightly toned legs, seeing his leg hair become specks as he slammed the door on the lads. I whimpered and bent the pillow around my head, it representing a white version of a Wotsit.

Zayn sighed like a lost puppy, coming to my side like a man’s best friend.

‘Liam?’, he pulled me towards him like an anchor keeping me from going out to sea. My soul-less eyes peered into Zayn’s hopeful eyes, floating around in his kindness. The hope brightened the longer I gazed into his chocolate heaven.

‘How am I going to tell them, Zayn? They’ll act completely different towards me once they know’, I pouted. My eyebrows knotted together though Zayn helped separate them with his infectious smile. His finger dipped inside my dimple as I beamed back at him fondly. Butterfly couples slow danced inside my stomach, bumping my sides with clumsy hands and feet.

‘They won’t, Liam. They’d support you. They may act like pricks sometimes but they’re good, genuine people. You’ll struggle to find that, especially on here and in the industry’, Zayn murmured, easing the tension in my shoulders with his long fingers. I mumbled quietly, lowering my shoulders gently. ‘How do I go about telling them? What if they say insensitive shit?’, I leaned my head in the crook of his neck.

Zayn smiled knowingly, his fingers stroking my ever-growing dark arm hair. A boost of testosterone had seen them multiply. ‘It’s fine, Liam. Don’t stress. I’ll be beside you and if they say anything, they’ll meet my fist’, he chuckled. I frowned, not wanting anything to turn messy. Zayn nudged my jaw up to greet his long eyelashes. Zayn pouted gently, a mock-hurt puppy with straggly hair. ‘Babe, I was kidding. I don’t get angry unless someone hurts a friend or loved one, but I tend to swear before fighting’, Zayn’s soft hands rubbed my cheek. I cracked under his velvet touch and erased the sadness on my lips.

‘I know, I know. I guess I just always think of the worst scenario’, I muttered, rubbing my face to hide the red glow on my cheeks. Zayn took his small hands in his, a bright tug upwards on his lips. My teeth wrapped round my bottom lip like a tidal wave. ‘Tell me about it, Liam. But it’ll go well and you’ll be wondering why you ever worried in the first place once it’s over and done with’,  
I nodded, hoping that Zayn was right though he had been so far.

 

‘Oi, Zayn. Pass us the ketchup’, Niall called through a chip filled mouth. I smirked, sharing Zayn’s look of disgust as he handed the sauce over. Zayn cleared his throat, knocking my elbow gently. A mountain formed in my throat and I forced it down.

‘So I have something to tell you all, but I need you all to be supportive’, I spoke quietly, afraid of my own voice. Four pairs of eyes suddenly stuck to my face like glue. Sweat formed on my back, a thick winter coat in the middle of summer. All knives and forks had been laid to rest to ensure everybody was paying attention to The Big Reveal. Inside my body, my heart was throwing itself against my chest like it was trying to escape a burning building.

‘Don’t tell us you’ve got a girl pregnant’, Louis shouted, bursting into laughter. His voice resembled that of a father. I frowned immediately, my coming out being clouded with misguided judgement. Zayn threw a sauce dipped chip at Louis’ cheek, earning him a cold glare. ‘Shut up, Louis’, he grumbled. His voice was growing tired of his attitude.

I laughed faintly, words swirling in my head like paper airplanes. ‘God no.. I couldn’t do that anyway. What I wanted to tell you all is that I’m transgender, female to male and I just felt I should be honest about it’, I looked down at my hands, embarrassed. A gentle hand patted my back and my heart smiled, desperate for kindness. 

‘Liam, it doesn’t matter to me. You’re still a lad’, Louis admitted. Ataken back, I beamed, looking up through my fringe. 

Harry spoke up next, ‘it’s nice to see you genuinely smiling so thank you for being open with us’. I nodded, my smile taking up half of each cheek.

Niall shrugged, ‘good on you, Liam. Takes a lot of guts’. Unlike everyone else, he was consuming food at an alarming rate and I chuckled. His mucky appearance resembled a man in a garbage chute, his eyes were lost among the dinner we’d prepared. The food was consuming him for that matter.


	8. Where did I go wrong? (TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people just don't know when to shut up. Louis is one of those people and Liam is struggling to handle his insensitivity. (TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM)
> 
> Hey guys, girls, non-binary pals. Hope you're enjoying these uploads. Also just take note that these next few chapters are going to be very low in terms of mental health. I'd like to point out that I don't endorse or glorify self-harm and that's why I have put a trigger warning in the title and here is one too. The reason why I chose to include self-harm is to show how low an lgbt teen's mental health can be (but that's not always the case). Here I'll leave my twitter: @iamhomewiththem if you need to talk to someone. However, it is best to seek professional help if you feel yourself in a low place. Here is the link to a list of international suicide hotlines: http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines . It's okay to not be okay but it's not okay to let your mental health take over your life. Stay safe and stay strong.  
> \- Liam

‘Liam. You’ve not got the balls to do that’, Louis smirked, nudging elbows with Niall. His eyes wandered to the cream cake in my hand, ready to splatter it in Harry’s face. The razor edge words sunk into my skull like a bear mauling an already dead being. Zayn came over to the dressing room door, lingering at my side. Every glance of happiness was a passing thought that left as soon as it arrived. I pushed through the barrier of tears and held the cake shakily in my hands, grateful my clumsy hands hadn’t dropped it on my shoes.

 

Harry’s curls came into view as he practically bounced through the door. I faked the playful smile on my lips and thrusted the sweet treat into his face. The cream covered his now pouting features. Louis let out an obnoxious laugh that reminded me The Mean Girls though when Harry glared his way, he turned, pointing his finger at me. ‘We’ll get you back for this’, he warned, biting his lip.

 

I shrugged in response and plodded over to the couch, throwing my body against the brick wall that was the sofa. Zayn wandered over alone, tapping my leg for me to scoot over and he sat beside me. ‘What was that about? Why are you all sad looking?’, he asked, pushing the sticky strands of my hair back. I gulped, thinking back to how Louis reminded me of my past.

 

_ My body shivered under the cold breeze of air-con running throughout the boys’ toilets. I managed to shimmy through the crowds of teenagers outside and bury myself in a book whilst sitting on the toilet, the door locked - obviously. I was perplexed as to how I had gone unseen but shrugged it off, my mind was always filled with worries. I fixed the short black wig on my head, gulping as I heard a trio of voices enter the bathroom. I pushed the nonsense aside and looked down at the words on the page. Diary of a Wimpy Kid always picked me up. _

 

_ ‘Ew, is that Lily’s bag?’, I heard a squeaky voice call and an evil laugh. My eyes darted to the floor, seeing polished black shoes at the foot of the door. My bag carefully laid in front in case anyone tried to force it open. There was no mistaking, a hand stitched design of ‘Lily Payne’, all thanks to my Nanna boasted on the front of the bag. _

 

_ Moments later, even bigger black shoes belonging to clearly an adult almost poked through the bottom of the stall. ‘Lily Payne, you have five seconds to get out of there or this will be another phone call to your parents’, Mr. Briggs spoke sternly. I scrambled, pulling my bag over my shoulder and sighed. My time was up here. _

 

_ My eyes met Mr. Briggs bushy eyebrows and the frown on his face confirmed what I knew: I was in for it. ‘How many times does this need to happen, Lily? You are a girl end of’, his voice repeated in my head. Tears fell down my cheeks as I returned to the playground, ‘Lily has no willy’, those same boys taunted, taking turns to chase me. _

 

Zayn’s hands tapped my cheeks gently, causing them to redden. My eyes snapped to his, now ready to let go of the niagara falls. My jaw tensed and I pulled myself away from him, separating my skin from his was ripping off a bandaid and it bled in my soul. His eyes fell to the ground, growing distant and soon his attention went to Niall, as he stood up and walked over to the Irish boy.

  
  


I groaned, falling into bed and shielding myself with the covers as I removed my armour: my binder. With it equipped, I was invincible but without it, I was invisible. A shadow of my true self. I let out an unknown river from my eyes, burying my face in a land of sheets. Familiar fingers trailed through my hair like they were visiting their favourite place all over again. The slim pillars eventually found my shoulders and slept in the pockets of my collarbones. ‘Liam? Please tell me what’s wrong?’, he cooed, feeling my body shake.

 

‘Louis said I didn’t have the balls to prank Harry’, I whispered breathlessly through the rush of the tears. Zayn tugged my small body against his lean torso, I curved into his figure like a broken masterpiece. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it babe. You know what he’s like’, he murmured, rubbing hot hands on my ice arms. My body was ready to freeze over.

 

I tensed, fighting off Zayn’s toned chest. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, Zayn. I wasn’t born with a dick like yours and I should have been. You’ve never been mocked for it’, I sobbed. My arms hitting against Zayn’s armour and wincing as pain flooded my fists. Zayn only gripped me tighter, rocking me gently.

  
  


My lonely fingers ached for attention as I crept out of bed. My mind was raging like twelve squirrels with an endless caffeine supply. My spinning head turned to meet Zayn’s sleepy face pressed against the pillow delicately. A tired sigh left my lifeless lips before I slipped into the bathroom, without sound. My head swung a pendulum of disastrous thoughts through my mind and I stared blankly at the mirror, my reflection overcome with fatigue and overwhelming sadness. Eyes as dark as the night met me with surprise and my usual bouncy cheeks fell flat. I rummaged through the cupboard, looking for a silver companion with a sharp tongue.

 

My hands danced when they found it and I grew more relaxed the more time I spent with it. Zayn’s breath hitched in his throat which knocked me into reality once more, I slid my friend back into the cupboard with a soft sigh. I pushed my boxers back down to cover the remnants of my unwanted thoughts and made my way back to bed.


	9. Now it's too late and I'm too far gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope you're enjoying these regular updates as much as I am. Anyway, this chapter was rather difficult to write because it's a painful topic, being outed. It is wrong and extremely disrespectful but unfortunately it does happen a lot. Leave a comment of what you think is about to happen.  
> \- Liam

‘Liam, wakey wakey’, Zayn chuckled, his long fingers digging into my sides. My legs thrashed out like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Zayn winced, I figured I must have kicked him and smirked, feeling proud that he was now leaving me alone. ‘Liam, if you don’t get up, I’ll have to get the water’, my eyes shot open, springing out of bed. Blood spots laid on the mattress and I gulped, noticing and quickly attempted to pull the covers over it.

 

Zayn realised and frowned but quickly hid it when I looked over. His eyes glanced at my legs, seeing the remnants of a terrible night but he was full of silence. I sighed, getting dressed with my back to him as usual. Zayn’s cuddles were everything I needed to feel like I wasn’t strapped on a rollercoaster hanging upside down by my ankles. ‘What are we doing up so early, anyway? It’s six a.m Zayn’, I asked, staring at him once I was presentable.

 

‘Rehearsals then we have to film our video diary for the week’, he mumbled. The life had slipped away from his eyes and he led me out of the room and to the car with the rest of the lads. I yawned heavily, consuming coffee to bring my body back to reality. Zayn buried himself in conversation with Louis, ignoring my usual conversation starters about my favourite artists. I even brought up R&B but he didn’t want to listen.

 

_ ‘Why would we want to hang out with you? You’re a freak’, Damien, an eleven year old baby face murmured. A chorus of laughter came from his friends behind him who were cheering him on and eagerly elbowing him with more insults. His best friend, Josh spoke up in between chuckling, ‘you’re not a boy, Lily’, he pushed my chest. I gulped, covering my chest with my arms. _

 

My arms pressed against my chest, still feeling his fingerprints against my shirt and frowned. My eyes focused on my feet until I was spoken to later on in rehearsals.

 

Zayn glanced at me longingly through rehearsals like he was searching for something. Sorrow-filled eyes ached for his fond smile and I ran up to him, hugging him tightly. My arms hoped to squeeze the sadness from him. Zayn let out a soft sigh, rubbing my back gently with his soft palms.

 

He pulled me through the stage doors, eager to get away. My body bumped with Zayn’s once we fell into a dimly lit corridor away from the chaos the boys were causing from running around like apes on stage.

 

‘Zayn what’re we doing?’, I asked, giggling. Adventure run through my veins, making excitement bubble in my stomach. He leaned in quickly, cutting me off and kissed me slowly, his hand caressed my cheek gently. My cheek glowed under his touch, each fingerprint sending shooting stars through my face. My lips moved in sync with Zayn’s, still a novice to the action.

 

He felt like a pre-teen again except this time he was living it right. He nudged Zayn’s forehead with his own. ‘What made you do that?’, he asked shyly, biting his lip. Zayn had sent his thoughts into a washing machine on a rapid spin. 

‘Well I like you, Liam. I thought that was pretty obvious from my actions’, Zayn laughed, holding me close by my waist. I clinged to him like a coat, our soft eyes approaching each other as we spoke. ‘Well if it wasn’t obvious, I like you too. I’m just not the best kisser, I don’t think’, I smiled, Zayn laughing from his nerves.

  
  


Zayn’s eyes were wide as he looked like he was trying make an escape into his phone. Maybe he was sick of reality as much as I was. I peeked over his shoulder like a small child nagging their parent, resting my chin there as I was desperate to see what was going on. ‘Zayn?’, I called, getting no reply and edging closer to see what he was looking at so desperately. My eyes engulfed the screen, automatically hiding my face in his lap once I’d seen the news.

 

‘What the fuck? How did anyone find out?’, he grunted, his eyes turning lighter from the tears forming in them. I began to cry hysterically in his lap like a baby, helpless and defenseless to life itself.

 

‘Find out what, Zayn?’, Louis asked, walking over from the table in our dressing room. He frowned, seeing me so weak and patted my back once.

 

‘That I’m gay, Louis. I like men’, Zayn sighed through the small gaps between his fingers. His breath brushed against my ear like a feather. Louis smiled softly, ‘tell me something I don’t know. You and Liam are all over each other like a rash. How did they find out?’. Zayn tensed, gulping, ‘earlier, we kissed in the corridor, must be a member of staff or a sleazy Ben sniffing around’.

 

A knot formed in my stomach as Zayn’s next words pierced my heart with a knife, ‘but that’s not all of it.. They know Liam is trans too and now everyone knows. This is an article for fuck sake’. The boys’ words felt like whispers too far away to hear as I began to shake, gripping Zayn as I cried a river into his pants, leaving splatters of tears which looked like piss stains.

 

‘Liam. Listen to me, we’re going to be okay. I know it’s hard to think that right now but we will be’, Louis murmured, kneeling beside me. I stared lifelessly at him with distraught eyes, grumbling, ‘that’s easy for you to say, Louis. You’ve not been outed. And you’re just as bad as them with your jokes about my genitals’, I spoke through gritted teeth. My arms outstretching pushing him away. Louis fought back with an arrogant grunt and left the room. The sound of ignorant squeaks from the door causing me to jump further into Zayn’s lap.


	10. Goodbye, I'm sorry, Mom (TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam makes a life changing decision.
> 
> (TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT
> 
> Hi everyone. I hope you're all well. I apologise this chapter has been a long time coming. However, here it is. This is probably the hardest chapter I had to write so far but awareness of mental health helps break stigma and encourages people to seek help. If you find yourself in dark places there are many people you can contact, professionals are your best point of call, here is the link for a list of international suicide hotlines. Suicide should never be an option. If anyone needs a friend, you can always talk to me. http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines
> 
> \- Liam (twitter: @iamhomewiththem)

‘Zayn, I’ll be fine’, I said sternly, crossing my arms over my chest. Truthfully, my lungs ached like my body had endured a twenty four hour marathon but I needed the time alone. He embraced me warmly, his arms holding onto my waist as usual. His smile etched into my shoulder, his arms tensed from the recent events. His usual chuckle fell flat after a second, ‘if you’re sure’, he argued with the tiniest of smirks. ‘I said I am, now leave’, I playfully pushed his chest, patting it. He held his hands up in mock defense, ‘okay, okay. I’ll be a few hours most. Can’t skip dinner with family. Goodbye Liam’, he whispered, pecking my lips gently before leaving.

 

I sighed, knowing I had the house to myself and made the long walk back to my bedroom. I dragged my body onto the bed, the will to live leaking onto the sheets in the form of tears. My Mum’s caring calls had made their way onto my phone since the outing of me and Zayn but it wasn’t enough this time. I whimpered into my pillow, my only company in the room. I listened to the sound of my pleas to the demons in my heard, their voices resembling internet trolls except I could never get away. ‘Stop’, I yelled at the walls, the taunting of being confided was becoming overwhelming.

 

My legs sprinted to the bathroom and ran the water, every mistake I’d ever made playing over in my head. Someone had hit the replay button.

 

_ ‘Mum, I’m trans’, I mumbled through a walkie-talkie. Ten year old me breathed shakily into the make-believe phone and gulped. Silence fell in the room suddenly like a herd of elephants were entering. ‘Did you hear me, Mum? Please talk…’, I murmured. Tears sprung free from the cage that was my eyes. _

 

_ ‘Yes I heard you. I just don’t know what that means’, she laughed, embarrassed. I sighed, ‘I feel like a boy, Mum’, I whispered into the object, telling her my biggest secret. I felt the smile on her lips as the words rolled off her tongue as she came to find me. There I was hanging out in the closet and she opened the door to let me out. ‘I’ll always love and support you, baby’. _

 

‘Ouch’, I winced, having thrusted my hand into the bath to check the temperature. I gulped, craving the sting of the familiar silver face. My fingers travelled along the sink and up the cupboard, desperately pulling open the doors. I wanted to set my companion free but I needed it to set me free. I smiled at the feeling, my skin itching from where the remnants had been left. I shed my clothes and sat in the hot water. The unfamiliar burning sensation painted my skin red. The skin on my arms blistering but I dared not raise my body from the water. I hissed with the growing pain but reminded myself how numb my mind had become.

 

I pulled my companion through the water, dancing with him in the dimly lit bathroom. My fingers twisted around his figure, endeared by his sharp edges and caressing them gently. He began to become bitter. He yelled that I should do as he says and I gulped, having always been so obedient. Even when those around me should not have been telling me what to do, nor should I have been following their orders.

 

My Mum’s face flashed through my mind in snapshots leaving me dazed. Her blonde hair was so full of life, it was like she brushed it twenty thousand times a day. And her smile was so effortless, she was the perfect pick me up. Her height was my favourite, she was always so small and that made me feel good. Whenever I was down on myself for not being the tallest of guys, she reminded me that I was at least taller than someone, that someone being her.

 

My eyes fell back along with my head. Time became numbly still. The thief of life was quickly approaching in his black cloak and he held a weapon in his hand, his watch. Time was precious and with each passing moment, my life was fading away. Shouts became whispers. People became memories. I became less myself. The tiles were the only witnesses to what I’d unravelled before them in a sadistic show. The silver friend was taunting me as my life started to slip away. Slowly my body was falling from a cliff and I’d been chained to a chair in the front seat to watch it all happen.

 

My body felt untouchable and pale like Casper the ghost. Except I didn’t look friendly, I looked like a skeleton that had just stepped out of the closet. I was a ghost of who I used to be, no longer resembling my physical self. My cheeks sunk into my face. My lips parted, aching to let out a call for a help. But who would answer? Mum was miles away. Who I really needed was her.

 

I laid in the tub, starring in my own silent movie. Zayn burst in, my Mum in tow. Tears flooded their eyes as one pulled out a phone and the other kneeled at my side. A hand in my hair though I didn’t feel it. ‘It’s going to be okay’, Mum mumbled though I could only just read her lips. The distraught look across her eyes showed she didn’t fully believe her own words. She tried to pull me close but Zayn stopped her, his hand resting on his chest. He warned her she could tear the open wound even more. She cried some more but agree, burying her head in Zayn’s shoulder just as I had and I craved it. Through my blurry vision, I could see the two people I loved getting along. And it was all the demons’ fault, I couldn’t hug them back.


	11. I wish I was never born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for the comments and kudos, it means a lot to see people appreciating my work. It makes me happy to see that others like what I do.  
> \- Liam

‘When do you think he’ll wake?’, Zayn looked up at the doctor like a small boy afraid of his own voice. His voice wavered, weakly wobbling and bound to give way at any moment. My dust filled mind still sore that my attempt had been a failure. The connection from my mouth to my brain was at a standstill and everything was passing me by like travelling in a time machine but unable to step out and see the view.

 

The doctor held a clipboard, the utmost professionalism. He hummed. Was I just another case for him? He didn’t present any emotion in his voice. ‘Any time now, he has been lucky. The outcome could have been fatal had you not caught him in time’, he stated. Zayn sniffled beside my ear like a dog with a runny nose. I could see in my mind, his red eyes craving hope but swimming with sadness. My heart clung to how I’d seen him last. His hair was on edge much like his nerves.

 

_ ‘Liam, what if they don’t love me anymore? This dinner could be just for them to tell me that I’m an embarrassment to the family and that I am therefore disowned’, Zayn paced the room. One hundred laps like he was preparing for the olympics. I frowned, placing my hands on his smooth arms that were bound to break at any moment from the tension in his heart. _

 

_ ‘Zayn, have you listened to yourself? They love you for you. That’s what families do’, I suggested, rubbing his chest gently. My hand would take all the anxiety in its grip if it meant he’d be okay. The nerves in his voice shook the room and I gulped, hugging him tightly in a good luck sense. _

 

_ Zayn just nodded, all the words in his brain evaporating when he went to open his mouth. My hand ached to hold his but my mind was cautious to the constant rattle of his hand against his jeans. ‘I promise you’ll be okay. And I’ll be right here when you return’, I smiled sympathetically. A golf ball stuck in my throat as I uttered the words out. My words were now false promises. I knew what I wanted and what I was going to do. _

 

‘So he’ll definitely wake up?’, Zayn’s tone filled with desperation and the need to cling on to me. His hand tapped at my own pale one every so often. His fingers walked up my skin like he was climbing stairs to get to me. Quicker his mind must have been saying as his pace got faster. He was mentally shaking me to wake up. I couldn’t.

 

The doctor sighed in the distance like a fading memory, reminding me of how somehow might recall a bitter old flame. ‘Listen, I have told you all I can about the situation, sir. You will just have to be patient’, he groaned, leaving the room without a goodbye. An Irish voice spoke next, ‘well he’s a fucking bundle of joy ay? Mr bloody helpful’, Niall smacked his lips. He must’ve been eating. A laidback accent filled the room, I could almost hear the smile in Louis’ voice, ‘alright, Irish snowflake, simmer down and try not to get crumbs on poor Liam. He won’t be happy’. A small, slim fingered hand gripped mine tight, begging me not to let go.

 

‘Liam, it’s Mum here. Please wake up, baby’, Mum pleaded, placing her chapped lips against my hand. A common habit of her was to gnaw at her lips and I could bet she was like a chipmunk with nuts, constantly attacking her lips with her teeth.

 

My eyes creeped open like a toddler sneaking out of bed. A sea of rainbow eyes glued to my body like a diy malfunction. A sheepish smile found its way to my lips, a consequence of the nerve fire in my stomach. It disappeared the moment it came as the taps opened down my Mum’s cheeks. My mechanical fingers reached out to wipe away her self-created oceans dedicated to me but the liquid was too slimy to allow my hand to linger over the area. My finger slipped down the surface like it was climbing a waterfall.

 

‘I’m sorry, Mum. I wasn’t thinking properly. I just felt like I’d be better off gone’, I whimpered. My ears sensitive to the constant uncontrollable cries leaving my Mum’s lips like a confession of her love for me. Her small frame trembled against Zayn’s strong shoulder that I could see was gradually breaking from the tension I was pressing upon it.

 

Zayn’s eyes glazed round the edges but his dark eyes carried the weight of the world. He cleared his throat, scratching his furry chin. He clearly hadn’t shaved in days and his hair fell in his face, masking his true worries. ‘We’re going to get you the proper help you need, Liam’, he murmured, holding my Mum like I should have been doing but the wires held me back. My brown mirrors of the soul held lakes in them and were threatening to spill at the obvious despair in the room.

 

‘What if I don’t want help, Zayn?’, I countered, internally hitting myself from the deep source of desperation to hold on shown by my Mum’s grip on him. Her fists clenched his shirt tighter, almost ripping it off him as she cried hysterically.

 

‘You need it Liam and you won’t be able to come back to the band unless you do’, he stated. He stripped his tears back from his words and spoke with no emotion, just facts.

 

The strength to let go weakened in my mind. The chorus of sobs from my Mum’s mouth was as painful as the mental hangover my body had endured. The volume of the voice urging me to destroy my life was slowly being tied down by the invisible ropes connected to Zayn’s words. Zayn’s words signified the hope for better. He believed I deserved better and I hoped that someday I’d see what he saw.


	12. The road is cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scheming boss tries to pry the truth out of Liam for all to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, as usual I hope you're all well and that you enjoyed this chapter. This story is sadly coming to an end soon however I have plans to make a sequel. I feel this will be very fitting for Liam to shed light on the life of trans people and the battles they face (myself included). I hope you will continue to support me by reading my work and hopefully sharing it too.  
> \- Liam

Cameras probed every area of my face, anxious eyes stalked my every move. Makeup glistened over the dark demons under my eyes. Caffeine drizzled veins caused my faintly lit eyes to buzz with the pressure in the small space between me and the rest of the world. Zayn’s soft lips grazed my ear. He silenced my unstable body that had been thrown out to the wolves with just a few words.

‘You don’t have to do this, Li’, he murmured. A soft crack in the crowds of unfamiliarity. His hands rested on my shoulder, smoothing over my collarbones like I was wearing a Gucci suit. His gentle grip kept me in control of my own breath as my thoughts sent me out to sea. ‘I’ll be okay’, I whispered, tilting my head back. His subtle eyes capturing my soul in the hopeful chocolate darkness. He simply nodded, ‘go for it’, his words of encouragement repeating in my head as the cameras rolled.

‘Here we have the next big boyband, One Direction’, Ben beamed. A handpicked mouthpiece for Simon, a slave to the devil himself. Ben Winston was his minion. So of course, he had me give an ‘exclusive’ to him and no one else. Mental health issues shouldn’t have been gossip, but in show business they were. Everyone was too busy bothering about who was having a crisis, they forgot to live their own lives.

Nervous tight lipped smiles and toothy grins filled the sofa. Zayn’s arm tensed against mine, his hands squeezed between his knees. My hand ached to tangle my fingers with his and nuzzle my head against his hairless chest. My fingers instead danced on the hem of my blazer, counting each second in time with my quickening breath.

Ben smirked, his eyebrows raising as he spoke. His words were like rocks colliding with waves. His smile grew wider. The tide was closing in on me. ‘So Liam, you’ve been sorely missed these past two weeks. How have you been? Everyone has been so worried about you’, Ben brought everyone’s eyes to me. Each pair of eyes resembled concern mixed with misunderstanding but it still felt like judgement on Ben’s behalf.

A melodious laugh left my mouth, my nerves carving their way out in my actions. 

‘I’m all good Ben now actually. I’m going through some personal stuff but if I’m honest, I’m getting through it with all the support around me, especially the boys’, I beamed. The smiles from the boys radiated onto my face like the hottest sunshine I’d ever faced, causing my face to heat up.

‘Aw, our Liam’s a cheesy guy’, Louis chuckled, wrapping his short yet strong arm around my shoulders. He rubbed his fist in my hair like an obnoxious older brother, something I had unfortunately hadn’t got to experience in my childhood.

Ben’s stern look of defeat met our gentle smiles. He couldn’t destroy our sacred friendship. He had laid an obstacle in front of us and we’d hurdled over it like Olympic athletes.

‘These boys are like family to me. They’re my brothers and I cannot wait to get back out on the stage next week. I’m ready’, an enthusiastic smile made its way onto my face.

Ben sighed, signing off on the interview and spoke through gritted teeth as he answered his phone.

The boys and I smiled knowingly at one another, walking out of the room and back to our car. My head fell on Zayn’s shoulder once the doors closed behind us. A sigh that weighed a thousand tonnes echoed out of my mouth. I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

‘Fucking hell I was cracking up back there’, I grumbled, shrugging my blazer off. I preferred to huddle under Zayn’s Lynx covered hoodie. Sure it’d spent a week in this vehicle back and forth between the floor and the seat but it smelled like home. Zayn was my home. Zayn’s arm curled around my shoulders, tracing soft trails along my bicep furthest away from him.

‘You did well not to fall in his traps. We all knew he wouldn’t make it easy for you. Simon definitely set it up’, Zayn sighed like a whistle in the wind. His hand stroked my arm and the prominent veins that were seeping through my skin due to testosterone shifting my muscle to fat ratio and regular workout sessions. His actions told me of his pride for saying what I wanted to say, nothing more and nothing less.

‘You’re the strongest person I know. And I don’t mean that in a patronising way’, Zayn muttered. The soft side of Zayn made me into a puddle of purity and serenity. I rested my head against his chest, listening to my two favourite sounds; his voice and his heart. I smiled at the wave of words and incoherent sentences as he started to ramble. His nonsense with sweet sounds of his passions. I often would lay on him and listen about his love for literature and words in particular. He loved the way certain words like ‘lovely’ sounded like their definitions when they fell off his tongue.

I wondered many times how other people didn’t like Zayn. He was a person that everyone could like. He always put his hundred percent into everything he pursued. When the boys were asleep Zayn would read poems he’d written and obscure songs he’d crafted. They were my lullabies.

That night he sent me to sleep with a passage from an old book of his and he tucked me in with kisses and love. A soft smile connected our faces as my mind fell asleep but my ears hadn’t turned off in that moment. Zayn’s soft hand caressed my cheek like I was a newborn baby. His voice crawled its way towards me, murmuring in my ear ever so subtly.

‘I love you Liam’. His words hugged and held my soul, rocking me to sleep in a cloud of Zayn’s affection. He loved me but he didn’t know I could hear him, though I was screaming it on the inside.


	13. One thing still remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'This isn't the last of One Direction'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're having a good 2018 so far.
> 
> I just wanted to say thank you for the support, it's been amazing.
> 
> I enjoyed this story so much, so much so, I'm thinking of doing a sequel.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> \- Liam

A bundle of gulps were audible behind the screen. Louis’ Toms tapped against the floor like a clock ticking down the seconds to show time. The chorus of cheers built up like an approaching stampede hitting us in the face as the doors to the stage pulled back. Five anxious face filled with imperfect smiles hidden behind different coloured microphones. I nodded to Zayn, winking at him and wandering off to the right side of the stage.

The crowd lifted our faces, I looked out at the sea of people. Hundreds of posters held up, people of all ages jumping to try and capture our attention. A teenage girl and the rolling eyes of her parents met my gaze. She looked like she had been screaming her heart out the whole night and her parents were sick of it. I chuckled softly, giving her a small wave and singing into my microphone.

 

Simon wrapped his arms around us, my shoulders pushed him back. People like him needed to be kept at a distance. ‘You’ll be okay boys’, he spoke, us huddling round him though we were all well aware of the danger he could bring. We nodded in sync like robots to his machine, everyone here was the same, always doing what they’re told. So conforming. Zayn’s shoulder tensed and he pressed himself more to me and the man who was supposed to be helping us start our career.

 

‘I want out, Liam’, Zayn pleaded, pulling me away from the trail of people that had built up around us. It was like we were at the top of a cheerleading pyramid, relying on others not to let us fall but they weren’t the most stable of people to depend upon. My mouth fell, my top lip hiding on the inside of my bottom one, like a small child tucked up in a duvet. Zayn was as much a part of the band as the rest of us were.

My hand smoothed over the veins in his hands that were protruding. Probably stress I imagined. ‘Zayn this has been your dream for most of your life.. You even told me how your sister used to yell at you for singing early hours in the morning. That’s dedication’, I reassured him, sneaking a kiss onto his cheek gently. My eyes darted around the room to make sure we were alone. Friends didn’t show affection like Zayn and I. What we had was different to the other relationships in the band, well maybe similar to Louis and Harry’s.

A sprinkle of a smile spread across Zayn’s tanned skin. ‘You give me hope, Liam James Payne’, he murmured, his thick yorkshire accent filling my ears. My favourite kind of music. His slim fingers trailed along my sides, sending slivers of happiness crawling up my skin. His soothing brown eyes lit up as they landed upon my face. A giggle exploded from my mouth causing the red monster to appear on my cheeks out of embarrassment.

‘I should hope so, Zaynie. I really want this and I know we tried our best. I hope people voted for us’, I pulled Zayn’s torso to mine. Although the binder I wore was a barrier between us and our intimacy, I tried to concentrate on our steady heartbeats that were now in sync as we held each other. Here we experienced a part of each other’s worlds. We were just that to one another and each day, we grew closer.

 

A small piece of card with the infamous X Factor logo stood between us and the once in a lifetime opportunity - a recording contract. My knees bashed together incoherently. Zayn’s fingers pressed against my back, gripping me harder than he’d ever done before. Nerves. Harry’s frosty breath rang in my ears. Louis’ eyes were glued to the floor, he dared not to look up in case the answer we didn’t want was right in front of us. Niall tried his best to not care so much though he cared the most.

‘Liam, sing with me’, an Irish kid named Niall asked, sat on the steps in front of the arena. We were waiting for our auditions. I didn’t plan to show off my vocals to the competition but you can’t say no to Niall and I learnt that the first day I met him. 

He had his guitar in his hand and strummed it gently. You could tell he treated his instrument as another part of him. You would’ve thought it was his baby, his own flesh and blood if you’d have seen him with it.

His soft and crisp vocals filled the void of air, Justin Bieber’s song, Baby. His voice punctured my stomach, gulping I sang along. I suddenly felt a little worried about the competition, afraid that I wouldn’t make it due to not being good enough compared to everyone else.

All those months felt a lifetime ago now. My arms squeezed around the boys, Niall on my left and Zayn on my right. I was at the in between state of jumping out of joy and falling to the floor in disbelief when Dermot announced the aching result. The band had come third. An amazing feat for every one of us but it stung worse than anything I’d ever experienced that we hadn’t come first. We’d come into this competition as boys and come out as men. We wanted and needed that recording contract.

The five of us had faces of loss as we wandered backstage, getting ready to join Matt Cardle, this year’s X Factor winner onstage with the rest of the contestants. All of us bombarded him towards the end of his performance of the winner’s single. Harry whispered in his ear, ‘think about all the pussy and dick you’re going to get’, he smirked. Matt tilted his head back, trying to catch his breath, completely overwhelmed and laughing. He looked like he was going to cry.

The five of us couldn’t help but wonder what was going to become of One Direction.


End file.
